He Goes By Death
by Transmundane
Summary: Caroline wakes up married to some Klaus Mikaelson. Little does she know, however, that Klaus is a suspected killer that only married her so he could wrap her up in his web and make her help with his filthy crimes.
1. Chapter 1

Everything was a blur. The room was spinning. My hands curled around his biceps and he kissed my neck. The triangle on his shoulder blade made me smile. So basic. Tattoos usually were there to make a point. But this one was just plain and simple. And the thing was, it probably did stand for something. But I was too drunk to actually think about it like that. At the time, it was just a triangle. He had a tattoo on his chest, as well, but since that was pressed into my front, I couldn't exactly see it. I didn't care, though. All that mattered was finding my breath and holding on for dear life as his hands trailed further south.

.

I never hook up with someone I don't know. Ever. What? That? No. That wasn't a hook up...exactly. He asked for my hand in marriage. I know, crazy. I didn't even know the dude's name. I was way beyond drunk. We'd been hitting on each other for quite some time and I guess I just had too much of everything because I honestly can't remember most of it. I just know there's a ring on my finger and a form I signed saying that I am officially married to one...Klaus Mikaelson?

Whatever. My eyes were still blurry and I didn't have my head screwed on quite right. The reality of it all would hit me when I started sharing it with my friends, but right now, I had to worry about getting ready for work. Single woman in my mid twenties living with my friends in the middle of a crowded city. Fun, right? My job wasn't that bad, though. I was the assistant manager for a clothing store. It wasn't just any clothing store, though, it had everything of the _most_ recent fashion. If it came out yesterday, we had it. So, yeah, kinda a girl's dream job.

I don't pay much attention to anything. It's me and my job and Lexi and Matt. That's it. I don't pay attention to what's on the news. I don't know what states we're neighbors to. I don't care who lives down the street from us. I don't live for television. And I most certainly do not want or need a man on my hands.

But still I have a ring on my finger. A ring that I actually wore into work. I should have taken it off, but I didn't. Maybe because it's pretty? Whatever the reason, I was a little pleased with myself about it. Someone married me. That was as close as I'd ever gotten to an actual relationship.

That warm feeling in my stomach I got at the thought of someone marrying me lasted until about lunch time. Then, while taking a bite of my fried chicken, I nearly vomited. I stopped mid chew and looked down at my hand. The ring sparkled in the restaurant lighting. "Oh, shit, shit, shit," was all I could manage to say – or think. The ring was off my finger in half a second and I was standing up from my seat. I didn't even think about work as I started off for home. That was the only thing I could do.

It was like I was running to my parents for help. Which...in a way, I guess I was.

"You're married?" Lexi exclaimed in disgust as she walked into the living room. I was at home – our home. We lived together in our happy little apartment. And since they were a couple, I was basically their daughter...kinda... No, never mind.

"Apparently. But, does it really count if I was drunk? Like, it wasn't in front of a bunch of people so, really, it's not _really_ official," I tried. That was probably the dumbest thing I could have said since I had the marriage license in my hand. The couch was incredibly cold against my flushing skin.

Matt, from beside me, took the paper from my hand and skimmed through the words. "Certificate recorded by city or town clerk on March fifteenth of 2013, by Father Damon Salvatore."

I sighed. "Alright, yes, it counts. But there's a way to get out of it, right?"

Lexi shrugged as she sat down on the arm of the couch, eating popcorn from a bowl. "You have a divorce paper?"

"Why yes, actually, I keep one handy at all times," I retorted.

"Then I guess you're Caroline Forbes Mikaelson," Lexi sassed back.

Matt turned towards me on the couch. "Listen, I'm sure it isn't that big of a deal. Have you run into him since that night?"

"No."

"Then what's the immediate problem? You have time to figure it all out."

"I'm married, Matt!" I reminded. "This is kinda huge. This means I went to a priest and everything and now I'm tied to this asshole. This is going on all my governmental files. I'll never be able to date again!"

Lexi groaned out loud and rolled her eyes. "Take the damn ring off!" she ordered. I obeyed and Lexi instantly snatched it from me. "There, now no one knows you're a Mrs. but you, me, and Donovan."

"Who does this?" I hissed my thoughts out loud, not paying mind to what Lexi had just preached. "What kind of person finds a woman in a crowd and goes 'Hmm, I think I'll legally make her mine and then just disappear on her before she wakes up the next morning sober.'"

Matt frowned. "Would you prefer he showed his face?"

I licked my teeth. "No," I growled in response. Honestly, if he had been there when I woke up and recalled what had happened, I would have beat the shit out of him. "But an explanation would be nice."

Lexi tossed more popcorn into her mouth and turned on the TV. "You kinda walked yourself into this mess, babe," she sighed.

I scoffed. "You're not even going to help me! My life is falling apart and you're seriously watching reality TV shows."

Lexi laughed. "I know, crazy, right? Your life is so much more interesting than this fake blonde with three boyfriends. But this chick doesn't pout, so I'mma stick with her."

Matt cleared his throat as I raised my hand to smack her arm. "Why don't you track down this guy and make him divorce you. It's only fair, right?"

"No. What's fair is me picking the guy I want to give my ring finger to."

Lexi frowned and turned to look at me, and then I realized what I'd said. She laughed and Matt couldn't help but smile. "Shut up, guys," I snapped.

"I'm sorry, you're right," Lexi agreed, "you should go find him and get your ring finger back."

"Can't I just burn the paper?"

"He's got a copy of his own," Matt reminded.

I almost yelled out loud in frustration. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Track him down," Lexi repeated the previous plan. "Can't be that hard. Where did you meet him?"

"The club on fifty second."

"So go check out the guest list and find him. If you want to get this done you have to get off your ass and do it," Lexi snapped, gluing her eyes back onto the television.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Great idea. Let's go." I hopped off the couch and headed towards the door.

Lexi frowned up at me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I ain't going!"

"Yes you are," I informed her. "That way I won't stop by a shop and blow a couple hundred dollars from your wallet," I grinned, taking her purse off the kitchen chair and walking out the building. She was off the couch and running for her shoes in seconds.

Matt sat on the couch with the popcorn now in his lap. "You kids have fun!"

.

Lexi let her head fall back as we walked down the sidewalk. "How much further? We seriously need a car."

I was too busy looking around at the signs of stores all along the block to answer her. It was so different with the sun out. I honestly only remembered the green and orange neon colors of the club sign. Now I had to look for a circle around some infinity sign. "This is fifty second, right?"

"Yeah. But are you sure it was this street?"

"Yes," I huffed, tucking my fists into my coat pockets. "But it was packed, so I doubt they actually kept a guest list."

"Oh no, you're not backing your way out of all this."

"Not trying to. Just being rational."

"Oh, now she's rational. You couldn't have tried to use a clear head before you signed a marriage license?"

"Shut up," I snapped. "Should we try one more street down? I might have gone a little further."

"Why not," Lexi grumbled. "I've got the rest of the day to wander around. Actually, you know what, can I go grab something to eat?"

I frowned at her. "Seriously? We're on a mission."

"A slow, boring, seriously lame mission. Just look up the priest. Be a lot easier."

"We're already on a hot trail. Might as well finish it all."

Lexi reached into her purse and pulled out her billfold. "Whatever, Caroline. I'll be getting a muffin at that pathetic looking diner over there," she informed me, already heading down the sidewalk ahead of me.

"Fine. I'll meet you there in an hour."

Lexi turned to look over her shoulder at me, but something caught her attention. She pointed to her right. "Circle and infinity sign. Bingo," she called back to me.

"You found it?"

"_I_ found it. _You're_ scoping it out. See you at the diner," she brushed off, heading back down her way. When I caught up to where she'd stopped to point, I saw that she was right. The small colorless sign hung above an open door of the now silent club.

With a deep breath, I walked the few yards towards the center and peered into the black building. There was motion at the bar, so I figured someone was in.

I stepped in and tried not to gag at the smell of musk. "Excuse me," I said, approaching the bartender that was scrubbing down the counter. "Hey, do you have a second?"

"We're closed," he answered sharply, not even looking at me.

"Yeah, I know that. But I need something."

"I can't help you if you lost your friend, alright?"

"Would you shut up and listen?" I snapped. I know, yelling isn't the way to get what you want, but I never think of that until after the damage is done. "I need to see your guest list."

He frowned and looked over his shoulder at me for the first time. He was a gross looking guy. His shirt was full of stains, he was overweight, and he seriously needed a shave. "For what?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Do you know their name?"

"Yes, I know his-."

"Then what good will the guest list do you? All it's going to do is confirm that he was here."

I stopped before I could reply. He was completely right. "You don't have like a report on him or something?"

"Oh yeah, sure," he started, "we have people fill out a form before we let them in."

I nearly growled out loud. I absolutely hated when sass was being thrown back at me. "If I could see the records, I could check to see if he's a regular."

"I know all the regulars," he informed her, going back to rubbing down the counter.

"Great. The name Klaus Mikaelson ring any bells?"

He stopped moving and snapped his eyes back to mine. "Who?"

"Mikaelson. Klaus," I repeated, taking a few steps closer. "You know him?"

The guy glued his eyes on mine and slowly stood up completely straight. "What the hell do you want with him?" he said in a very quiet voice.

I was about to turn and leave just because the atmosphere had gotten so mysterious. "He took something of mine and I need it back," I said, twisting the truth.

"Forget it," he snapped. "Trust me, you won't want it after he's had it."

"I kinda need it back. It's my freedom."

"Yeah, wouldn't we all like that back from him."

I frowned. "What? No." Huffing, I walked closer and pulled up a seat at the bar. "He somehow got me to marry him. I need to get him to sign a divorce paper."

"Burn the certificate."

"Gee, thanks for the idea. I never would have thought of that," I rolled my eyes.

"Why can't you?"

"He's got a copy of his own, dumb ass," I snapped, even though I had thought the same thing as him when the topic first came to my mind. "Why are you so hesitant about him?"

He laughed, showing off his yellowed teeth. I felt my lip unintentionally curl in disgust. "You're kidding, right?" A raise of my impatient eyebrows was all he got. He licked his lips, looking to the left nervously. "That man's insane."

"Obviously. You don't just go to a club and marry the first girl you see."

"Shh!" he hissed. "Be a little more respectful, will ya?"

"Why the hell would I pay any respect to this bastard?"

"Because he'll kill you if you don't."

That stopped my tongue from another sharp remark. Kill me? What? "What are you talking about?"

The guy cleared his throat quietly. His nervousness was contagious. "Klaus Mikaelson is a known killer. He has a license to kill. He's been stalking the whole of San Diego for over six months now. How have you not heard about this?"

I bit my bottom lip. "I don't watch the news?"

The man sighed, obviously disappointed with me. "Look him up. On the internet, not in person."

"I have to. I need my name cleared from any marriage-"

"If you go to see him you _will_ end up dead," he warned in a whisper.

I swallowed slowly. "Then let my life be in my own hands. Can you tell me how to find him?"

"Lady, I'm not helping you walk into a death trap!"

"If I slap you will it make you hate me a little more?"

"Not enough to help you die."

"I won't die!" I exclaimed, leaning forward over the counter to get in his face. "Can you trust me to make my own decisions?"

"Says the woman that got herself hitched to a psycho killer."

My lips pursed and hands balled into fists. "I am so close to punching you in the face."

"And it's that kind of talking that will get you killed. The second he refuses to divorce you, you'll be throwing things at him and then he'll send a knife back in your direction."

I stood up from the stool. "Fine, prick. I'll go to someone else for help. I think it might be you that's insane."

I turned to leave, tired of running into dead ends with the conversation. "I'm warning you!" he called as I neared the door. "Think about this before you do anything stupid."

"The 'stupid action' box has already been checked off. Not too worried about that one anymore."

.

"Remind me to never go to that club again," I hissed, approaching Lexi's stool at the counter of the bakery.

She had a muffin in her hand and a glass of milk beside it. "Why? Someone make a move on you?"

"Would you get your head out of that perverted cloud?" She smirked and went back to stuffing her face with bread. "No, the guy said that he couldn't help me with anything."

"That's too bad. Now what? You could always try the priest."

I scoffed. "I don't know where to find him."

"I do," she threw in, licking her finger. "He's the pastor for the church we left not too long ago. He creeped me out; too weird and carefree."

"You couldn't have mentioned this before?"

"Why would I?" she chuckled. "I had to watch you chase your own tail first."

.

The address she gave me was literally just down the street. I figured she'd send me to the church or something, but no, she had his home address stored in her head. She totally got into more shit than she let on. That must have been why she was so calm over this. It was nothing compared to what she got into. Yeah, that was it.

Anyway, the house for the guy was a sore thumb in this part of the city. I don't know why he remained there; his white picket fence was right in the middle of all the bars and casinos and even that one secret whore house that I accidentally heard about. It's top secret, but someone had just come into the shop one day, put on a dress, and informed me of everything. So why was a priest living right there? His name was hanging over his door, so I knew I had the right place.

I knocked on the door and looked around cautiously. The paint on the house was flaking and one of the windows was broken. So much for being a flawless pastor...

The door opened and a black haired man stood behind it, smiling at me with incredibly white teeth. He was _wearing_ a pastor's getup, but he didn't have a pastor's face.

"Damon Salvatore?"

"Ah, the young lady from last night," he greeted. "Did you forget something?"

My cheeks flushed. He remembered me. Oh, how wonderful. Any embarrassing things I did were still fresh in his mind. "Yes, actually. I woke up a married woman? And I kinda want to talk to you about that."

The next thing I know we're in his living room sitting on the couch having a very civilized conversation. "Why did you marry us? It was obvious I was drunk," I accused him, not feeling a bit of guilt over it.

"I was not about to say no to Mikaelson," he chuckled, as if it were all some friendly joke.

"Why?"

"That man holds a lot against me. I've done some terrible things in my time. I became a priest looking for redemption, but he still wishes to hold my past sins above my head," he explained, using a bunch of bullshit hand gestures to make him look completely graceful and innocent.

I wasn't buying it.

"Well, no offense, but you don't really look like the kind of person who would jump onto the Jesus train and completely change your ways for it," I commented.

"Perhaps so," he nodded, folding his hands in front of him, "but never judge a book by its cover, my dear."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, whatever. So, let me get this straight...you married us off, under completely insane and idiotic conditions, because you didn't want him getting mad at you?"

The priest shifted himself on the bench, becoming a little more relaxed. Weird. That was the complete opposite reaction the bartender had given. "When Klaus Mikaelson is upset with you, you have nowhere safe to hide. He will come for you, thinking he's a god himself, and kill you."

My eyes widened at him, but not because of his threatening words. "You're scared of him!"

He hesitated a moment before nodding. "One could say that. But only a fool would bravely deny a killer what he requests."

"Excuse me," I frowned, leaning away from him a bit. "Satan's a killer, is he not?" The man frowned at me, knowing exactly where I was going. "So, are you a fool to say no to Satan?"

It was like my words cracked his entire priest act. He leaned back into the couch and narrowed his eyes at me. "What do you want, exactly?"

"Tell me where to find him."

"No one knows that."

"How the hell does no one know? He's a known killer in San Diego and _no one's_ taken the time to find out where he lives?" I questioned.

Salvatore just shrugged. "Perhaps you should go to the sheriff."

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, not in agreement, but in sudden realization. "He's a killer, how has the city not locked him up yet?!"

"They have no proof. He knows how to clean up his mess."

"What? He's known as a serial killer, but there's no proof?"

"There have been a number of five deaths in the past month. Every single one has had something in common: Klaus Mikaelson was the last person they talked to before disappearing. But that's all they can find to pin on him."

"What do you mean disappearing?"

"They vanish. Many say that he eats every ounce of their body, and others believe he simply is an excellent hider."

"And what do you think?"

That shut him up. "...Well, it is not my place to judge and make assumptions about that man. God is the true judge."

"God isn't going to help me get divorced," I pointed out. "You are. How do you do it? Is there some kind of reverse thing you can use? Without us both signing anything?"

He smiled. "I'm afraid not. It would not go over well in court."

"Well, God's the true judge, so that doesn't matter."

His eyes held mine. "You mock me and my beliefs. Why?"

"Maybe because you tied me up to a psychopath," I hissed.

He nodded his head, understanding that he wasn't exactly admired. "Is there anything else you need from me, Mrs. Mikaelson?"

"Forbes! I'm still a Forbes. And yes, actually. Tell me about him."

Salvatore frowned. "Whom?"

"Klaus Mikaelson," I growled.

His jaw ticked at my unpleasant mood and he took a deep breath. "What would you like to know?"

"How you know him. Why he's a killer. What he does. Why he married me. Who he is."

Salvatore licked his lips. "Well, I can only tell you the little I know, so please don't be disappointed with my little knowledge of the man." He waited a moment to see if I would interrupt. "Klaus Mikaelson came to me a year ago, threatening my life. He'd found out about something I'd done in my past – a small sin – and swore to 'take me down' if I crossed him. Naturally, I followed warnings and left the man alone. Come to find out, he had put me on a list of people to use. Ever since my name had been written on that list, I was his to use. I've been doing church duties for him ever since. One mission being to marry you to him."

I frowned. "Wait, he has to be a very secretive man. How do you know about the list? He just told you?"

"Oh no, he showed me. It's a very small list, I assure you. At least, it was when I saw it. Five names in total. All written in red." He chuckled. "It all seems so surreal, doesn't it? Like a fairytale. I work for a killer..."

He did. This priest was doing things for a man that ripped the life away from people. Imagine walking down a street, and out of the blue a man shows up behind you and snaps your neck, ending any sort of existence you were living. Dead, just like that. You had friends and family and a job and maybe even a cat or dog, but none of it mattered anymore because you lay dead in an alleyway in the middle of a city, not to be found for hours, or possibly a few days. You'd shed your last tear, sighed your last laugh, spoken your last words, and you hadn't even had the chance to prepare to die. It was all over.

And this guy was working for the man that killed you – the man going around tearing the souls from random people in the night.

"How can you work for him?" I asked in a vile tone.

Salvatore frowned at me. "You're married to him..."

"I didn't have a choice! You did. Wouldn't you rather die yourself than help him kill so many others?"

The priest's eyes widened. "You think I could just say no and welcome death with open arms?"

"I think that's what any civilized human being would do."

He snickered, just under his breath. "You've never faced death before, have you, Caroline?"

I shook my head slowly.

"Well, when you do, you come tell me when you said no in order to save your life. Everyone would do it. A civilized human being would not stand in the track of the devil if it meant saving a man they did not know. A civilized human being would run, begging for him to take the others, because what is the human race besides just a bunch of cowards?"

I couldn't help but listen to him. Suddenly, the fact that I had been so at ease with what the bartender had told me made me want to rewind and actually react to his words. He'd warned me of a killer, and I'd laughed and brushed him off. But Damon Salvatore's words were making me rethink everything. It wasn't really "the closest I'd ever been to an actual relationship." It was really a relationship with possibly the next Jack the Ripper. And to think that I had been okay with that seconds ago...

"Klaus told me to call you Mrs. Mikaelson. He wants you to remember that you're his. No doubt you're on his list now, Caroline Mikaelson. And I'm so terribly sorry."

My hazed eyes somehow found his in the overwhelmed state I was slowly slipping into. "He told you? When? How did he know I would even come speak to you?"

Damon Salvatore looked down at his feet. "I truly am sorry. But there's nothing more I can answer for you. You have to wait for him now."

"I don't want to wait for him. I don't want him to know my name. Or _take_ my name!"

"But he has," he reminded, "and there's no way out now."

My head shook, just out of the sheer horror of his words being right. "There's always a way out."

"There's not," he whispered.

I felt like exploding right there into a mess of panic and despair. "Help me..."

The priest looked sad, truly and utterly sad. "I cannot." My eyes fell down and my hands held one another so tight my knuckles whitened. "But there may be a place to hide when things get rough," he added. "I cannot tell you where that is, however. I'm afraid you'll have to figure that one out on your own."

"How? Like, run away?"

"No. You have to find yourself a place to store your sanity. Then return there when things get out of hand."

"Out of hand?"

A warm smile crossed his face. "I'll tell you what: come to me if you ever need to. You're in for a ride, Caroline Mikaelson, and it won't get better until it's absolutely at its worst."

"How do you know? How bad do things get?"

"Don't worry about that right now. Just concern yourself about getting through each day. Do that, and you're halfway through the entire thing."

So many questions were forming and swirling in my mind. _So many questions. _"What do I do right now, though?" I practically begged.

He stood up, holding his hand down for me to take. "Now, you return home. Find your sanity. Store it. Hold on for dear life. And when he finally shows up, don't hold your breath."

I was at the door, amazed that I was even able to walk on my weak legs. "When does he show up?"

"He'll give you a heads up."

"And what do I do when I finally meet him?"

"Don't act frightened. Act as if you know what you're doing. I've found he admires the ones that look him in the eye," he said, opening the door for me, since I had abruptly stopped. "I'll be here, Caroline. But only when it gets rough."

"Does rough have a definition?"

He had me out the door, with his face watching me through the small gap still open. His smile helped a bit, but not enough to my comfort. "Rough is when you're ready to jump off a cliff. When you're ready to not be a civilized human being. When things are twisted in your mind and you can't tell your right from your left. Or when you think for a split second that what he's doing might not actually be all that entirely bad... That's when it's rough. And that's when you'll need help finding your sanity."

"I'm scared," I choked out, becoming uneasy on my feet.

"As you should be," he nodded. "But remember one thing, Caroline Mikaelson, you're married to a killer now. A scared little girl that cries will last only seconds. But a bold woman who makes an impression...why, she just might make it to the end of the week."

* * *

**This was a random idea that I decided to roll with. Hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought so I can get a feel of what you guys are thinking!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you guys so much for the positive responses. Really, seriously encouraging for me. So keep it coming! Loving it!**

* * *

What do you do when you're desperate for information and work in a fashion shop where hundreds of women come to shop every day? You ask for information, naturally. The only problem was I couldn't just get a straight answer out of anyone. They'd each taken Klaus Mikaelson's story and mixed and mashed it.

"I heard he shot our last mayor."

"I saw his face once. His eyes were like coals."

"He's missing a few teeth."

"He killed my cat."

"He's incredibly formal. You wouldn't suspect a thing. Especially when his piercing eyes distract you from the terrifying reality of his smile..."

"He slept with me because he thought I was the most exotic woman he'd seen in his life."

"He was in Africa before here. He's as black as coffee. Crazy, too."

"He had a gun up to my head one time. I swear he was going to kill me."

"They had him in prison a while back...He got out."

By the time I was done with my shift I was about ready to tear my hair out. The closest I got to solid information was when my boss told me to stop questioning people about "the death reaper." And even with that, I already knew he was a killer. Call that day one hell of a disappointment.

Luckily, when I got home, Lexi and Matt were more than willing to help me research Mikaelson. Actually, they were a bit excited to do it.

"Nothing says he's a killer. There's just_ a lot_ of fishy proof that he was involved with the murders," Matt mumbled as he scrolled over another website. He sat at the table, Lexi leaning over his shoulder and myself pacing in front of them.

"You'd think that after so many times of him being at the crime scene they'd just arrest him in case," Lexi scoffed, leaning on Matt's chair and rubbing her hand over his shoulder subconsciously.

"Is that an actual news file?" I asked, doubting the website.

"Yeah," Matt said, his eyes moving up to check the date. "From back in December. Tons of people went missing."

"At Christmas time? And he was involved?"

"His name shows up as a witness. Every time," Matt nodded.

Lexi growled. "Cops are so stupid."

I leaned over the table surface. "Someone said he got paid to kill. Do you think the government hired him? They do that, don't they?"

"Yeah," Matt agreed with a snappy voice, "to take care of cases like Jeffrey Dahmer. In this case, the guy taking care of the criminal _is _the killer. I don't think he's getting paid, Caroline."

I let my head fall down onto the table, feeling all hope rush out of me. He did it all as sport. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

I heard Lexi sigh in sympathy for me. "You might just have to go through with everything. I know that sucks and sounds just absolutely stupid, but it's all you've got right now. Try to run and he just might hunt you down like a rabbit."

"Thanks, Lexi, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

She shrugged, but before she could add more onto her horrible opinion, the doorbell went off. "Who ordered pizza?" I demanded, pissed off. I'd told them I would make lunch. But Lexi and Matt both just shook their heads. "Order anything?" I checked. Again, they denied. "Expecting anyone? Do something the landlord wouldn't like?"

Lexi raised her eyebrows slowly at me. "We didn't do anything," she whispered, "but you're married to a guy that promised to come after you..."

My heart stopped beating at her words. The idea of being that close to the door made my skin crawl. He could possibly be on the other side. With a knife. Or a gun. Or maybe just his huge, bare hands, ready to strangle me.

Much to my relief (and fright), Matt stood up from his seat and casually made his way to the door. He opened it without even looking through the peephole to see who it was. And thank God he didn't need to. When the door swung open, no one was there. Matt stood there for a moment before bending down and picking up an envelope.

He read the front of it for possibly 0.5 seconds before he bolted straight down the hallway, leaving Lexi and me calling after him.

By the time we both were in the doorway and Lexi was picking up the dropped letter, Matt was nowhere to be seen. He must have jumped into an elevator before we even had time to react to what was going on.

"Where is he going?" I asked, as if Lexi would know the answer.

I say that sarcastically, but she did actually know where he'd gone. "After your husband."

I looked to see what she was talking about and in her hand was the letter, with "_My Dearest" _printed in calligraphy across the front. My breath caught in my throat as we both realized Matt had just run after a killer that obviously wasn't in the mood to be seen.

"Matt..." Lexi gaped, staring down the hall like there was a ghost at the end.

I could do nothing but stare at the white square in her hand. I took it quickly, not bothering to be polite. It was mine, after all. I ripped it open and pulled out a card. Just a simple piece of hard paper with print on one side. "Pick a dress, sweetheart," I read aloud for Lexi to hear. "What does that even mean?"

"Anything else in the letter?" she checked, still scanning the hall.

I checked, and sure enough, a ticket fell out from the bottom of the letter. "It's an invitation to a law firm party," I said disgustedly. Not only did I hate lawyers, but I hated their parties even more. And now I was expected to pick a dress and wear it to this place that I know nothing about?

Let's just say I was on the verge of breaking down. Too much, way too fast. There was absolutely no time to cry, though, because Lexi grabbed my arm harshly and pulled me with her as she jogged down the hall towards the elevator. Her fingers smashed into the button over and over, urging the transporter to work faster.

"It's too late," I shook my head. "By now he's either dead or kidnapped."

Lexi lifted her hand and smacked me upside the head. "Say anything else and he won't be the only one to die today."

Sarcasm. That was the only thing we could do to keep our heads on. The second we stopped being sarcastic, we would be serious, and then everything would hit us like a brick. So, if we stayed all smart-assy, then our chances of Matt coming back up to us would somehow be about twenty percent higher.

Call it superstition, but it worked. We ran down the stairs, heading for the first floor. But halfway down the second flight, the bottom door opened and a panting Matt entered the hollow stairwell. We stopped mid step and looked down the center of the stairs. "Matt?" Lexi called.

Relief flooded over me as he looked back up with a pained look on his face. "Didn't find him."

"You idiot!" Lexi yelled, racing down the stairs.

"What'd I do?" he frowned, slowly heading up to meet her.

I took my time following Lexi, knowing that she'd run into his arms and hugged the hell out of him. I didn't need to witness my friends in a happy relationship while my love life crumpled under my thumb.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I heard Matt mutter into her shoulder. They were an entire floor below me, but I still casually sulked down the steps.

"Not chase after a killer!"

"We want to find him, don't we?"

"On his time. He already promised to show up eventually. If he didn't want to be seen, why would you try to catch him?"

"To help Caroline with her life?"

"Thank you, Matt!" I exasperated as I rounded the last few steps. "At least someone cares."

Lexi turned to face me. "If my fiance dies because he's trying to help you, I'll kill you too."

"Nice to know you'll always have my back."

Matt glanced back and forth between us, looking like a lost third wheel. He slowly put his hand into the air. "I'll always have your back."

"Yeah, no shit," Lexi growled, then turned and stormed back up the stairs.

.

"Red or black?"

Lexi groaned over the phone. "Why do you care so much?"

I placed the black dress back on the rack and examined the red one. The music in that shop was giving me a headache, and that apparently didn't help with my planning schemes. "I don't want to look like myself. The last thing I need is him thinking he knows me."

"So you're just going to act like a different person entirely?"

"Might as well try," I mumbled, holding the dress up to my front as I looked into a nearby mirror. "I don't want him to enjoy this. I want to look like the last girl that Klaus Mikaelson would have on his arm."

"Klaus Mikaelson?" someone to my side spoke up.

I dropped the phone down from my ear and turned to see a girl looking at me. She was young, with brown hair. And when I say young, I mean young. She couldn't have been more than fourteen. So what was she doing in a woman's dress store?

I forced a smile onto my face. "I'm sorry, sweetie, what?"

"Klaus Mikaelson," she repeated, frowning up at me. "What do you know about him?"

I chuckled. The irony. "Absolutely nothing."

"What are you talking about him for, then?" she questioned.

I frowned, tilting my head at her. I placed the phone back up to my face for just a second. "Lexi, I'm gonna have to call you back...Who are you?" I asked sweetly, bending down to the little girl.

"No one. But, are you looking for Klaus?"

"Yeah..." I said slowly and suspiciously. "What do you know that I don't?"

"What do you want?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Well, honestly an address wouldn't be bad-"

Before I even had my sentence finished, she had a pen and pad out, scribbling down something frantically. "Okay, I have his address," she announced, folding up the paper after she tore it from her notebook. "But you have to give me your name first."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who do you think you are?"

"Someone that knows more than you do."

I liked my teeth, narrowing my eyes at her. What was this? Some tween was bargaining with me. Should I trust her? I mean, she might have had his address. But if she didn't? I'd have spilled my name to a stranger for no good reason.

But she hadn't even hit puberty yet. What could be that bad?

"Alright, little girl," I crossed my arms. "Caroline."

"Last name?"

"Mikaelson..."

She smiled to herself and held out the paper. "Okay. Thank you."

And then she skipped off.

What the actual fuck? A child. A child had just come up to me and told me a huge part of information that I'd been fishing for and then just left with nothing but my name in her pocket. What? Was she part of Klaus' plans? That wouldn't surprise me. He did enough bat crazy shit that this wouldn't have been too far off the line.

Opening the paper, I read the few lines of numbers and street she had written down. Did I dare follow? Eh, what could happen? I knew how to kick someone in the loin.

.

This was it. This was his house. After only two minutes of driving, I'd found the address, right in the middle of the city. It was honestly kinda scary. A little too fancy for a modern house. I could easily see there being a basement full of cells and torture weapons. But I still got out of my car and approached the house, taking my time just in case he burst through the door with a shotgun the second my foot touched his sidewalk.

But no maniac with a gun appeared, so I figured I was safe to continue. What a stupid assumption.

I'll spare you the petty details of getting into the house. I will say, however, that it was a completely normal house. He even had a maid walking around. Visitors weren't unusual, apparently, because the maid completely ignored me – even when I asked her where to find the head of the household.

I kinda felt like a wall... Even more so when someone ran into me. I spun around, sure that security was coming to take me away (I just felt like he was the kind of guy to have security just sitting about). But it wasn't someone with a gun. It was a jittery guy in a suit. He had black hair that was so short it could have just been a shadow on his head. His brown eyes were wide with shock. Obviously he was terrified, but what of?

Another stupid thought, on my part. I was in the house of a killer and this guy looked scared. _Gee, I wonder why?_

For some reason, I knew he wasn't Klaus. This nervous wreck absolutely was not the confident bastard that put a ring on my finger.

He muttered a horse, "Excuse me," before walking around me and exiting the house on wobbly legs. His entire stance set me into my own tense pose. My first thought was that he was a victim that got away from an electric chair. But he was suited, so that didn't make much sense.

If I could go back and never enter that house, I would. It truly was a waste of my time. A waste of time that gave me nightmares. See, I didn't find Klaus Mikaelson while I was at the house. I found his brother.

After I watched the strange man leave the house in a hurry, I turned around to find I was standing in front of the creepiest man I'd ever seen. I kid you not, this guy almost made me piss myself.

His hair was combed all fancy like, but the bangs had fallen into his eyes. His head tilted forward, casting shadows across his eyes. He was wearing a tux like it was his skin. His hands folded behind his back, and his lips formed a very sinister smirk.

To say I had jumped in surprise would be an understatement. Even after I jumped, I felt like I never hit the ground again, just lingered in that skin-tingling shock.

"Good evening," he spoke in a deep voice.

I forced myself to smile, but it came out more as an inward chuckle. Something told me a swift kick to the loin wouldn't be enough to stop that creepy ass guy. "Hi. Um... I'm the...woman from dry cleaning," I pulled out of my ass. "I came to return the...dry cleaning. Klaus Mikaelson's dry cleaning. I gave it to the maid already, so..." I trailed off, looking away from his smirking face. "So now that that's done, I guess I'll be on my way," I smiled brightly, turning quickly to leave. The ants in my pants hadn't ever been worse.

My eyes glued to the door as I briskly walked towards it. "Mrs. Mikaelson," he stopped me.

My feet stopped working and my teeth instantly caught my bottom lip between them in panic. He knew who I was. He knew I was married to a Mikaelson. For all I knew, he could be Klaus himself. Still I turned towards him, though.

His smile was the perfect mixture of both a friend's and a maniac's. "I highly recommend you simply _wait _for Klaus to find you," he finished.

I was relieved. That wasn't Klaus. And for some reason, that put courage back into my soul. "How do you know me?"

"I believe I bought a suit from you a few months ago."

"How do you know I'm a Mikaelson?"

He chuckled. "You think I wouldn't know who my brother married?"

"Okay, whatever. I don't care, honestly," I said bluntly. "Is he home? I need to speak to him."

"Would it happen to have anything to do with a divorce?" he checked with raised eyebrows.

I swallowed. "Yes."

"He's busy."

"And if I don't want to talk about a divorce? Is he available then?"

He smiled. "No."

I huffed. "Why did you ask what I wanted to talk to him about, then?"

"To see if you were as predictable as you look. As it turns out, yes you are."

I liked my lips, quickly growing very impatient. "So that's it? I can't see him? Why would he marry me if he was just going to pitch me out of the picture?"

The man frowned, taking a few steps closer. "You will be part of the picture, Mrs. Mikaelson. But first you'll have to prove yourself useful or else..." He chuckled. "Well, you know what his reputation is."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Merely warning," he nodded. "Now, if you will, please exit yourself from the premises."

The next thing I knew, I was outside the house with the door slamming in my face. My heart was beating faster than it had in my entire life, and my cheeks felt a sudden rush of cool air - the blood finally flowing somewhere other than my head.

Well, that could have been worse. I mean, I could have run into my actual husband.

But no. That would come as a surprise later on that night. Let's just skip ahead to that, shall we?

.

"So you went with the red," Lexi mumbled, propping her hands on her waist as she gazed at the dress I hung on my door. "Should have gotten black. You'd fit in more with the lawyers."

"Shut up," I growled. I sat on my bed in pjs while Lexi inspected the dress thoroughly. "I don't want to fit in, remember? I'm not being myself."

"Something tells me a mass murderer is going to see right through that act," she chuckled.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I demanded.

"How about just go through the motions and when the night's over, you can decide if you kill him or not."

"You mean if _he _kills _me_."

"No, I meant if you were going to 'kill' him, as in beat him with your words until he divorces you. God, having an actual killer in your life now kinda narrows down my ability to use the 'kill' metaphor."

"Oh, poor you."

That was all of my sarcastic answer that had the chance to leave my mouth. I was stopped short by the doorbell going off, followed by the sudden emptiness of the apartment. "Oh my God I'm going to die!" I hissed to Lexi.

Lexi looked a little timid, herself. But she managed to pull a straight face and usher me silently towards the door. I followed like a lost puppy, not wanting to be alone. She walked straight to the door, not even looking through the peephole before she slowly pulled it open.

I instantly jumped behind the opening door, not wanting the door to slip from between the killer and myself. My eyes were glued to Lexi, watching literally everything she did. The slight confident flip of her hair, the timid swallow, the hesitation before speaking, and her eyes never even blinking away from the man. She opened her mouth to say hello, but was interrupted by possibly the sexiest voice I'd ever heard - not exactly what I'd expected.

"I think we both know I'm here for Caroline."

Lexi shut her mouth instantly, lowering her head and turning to face me with a slightly ticked off expression on her face. My head shook aggressively, but she was having none of that. She walked away before I could reach out to grab her.

What was I doing? I'd have to face him sooner or later. It didn't really mattered that I was in my bathrobe or not. He'd already seen me naked, right?

So I sucked it up, grabbed the handle of the door, walked around it, and came face to face with an unpleasantly pleasant surprise. My stomach jumped up into my throat when I laid eyes on him. Cheekbones, blue eyes, eyebrows, scruff, dark blonde hair, and the _lips_...

"My lady," he said, snapping me out of my gawking.

I shut my mouth and shook my head, clearing my mind. "Klaus."

He had this smug smirk on his face that made me want to slam the door in his face - but I didn't dare. "You look surprised," he mused.

I shrugged. "I wasn't expecting you to look normal."

"You've met me before," he reminded.

"Yes, while stars clouded my vision."

"Well, it hardly matters now, does it?" he smiled, shrugging our words off. His eyes trailed down my body, bringing a blush up to my cheeks. His eyebrow quirked up. "When I said 'dress,' this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I cleared my throat, suddenly very interested in the color of my door. "For the lawfirm party, yeah...I'm not going."

Klaus watched me for a moment, waiting for more. But after a few seconds, he folded his hands in front of his suited body and licked his lips slowly. "Tell me, what have you discovered while asking around about me?"

My eyes fell down slowly. _Killer_.

As if he could read my mind, he nodded. "That's what I thought. I'll give you a mere five minutes to get ready. I'll be down by our limo. Do try to pamper yourself professionally. I will tolerate no childish games."

I looked up to catch his eye. "How do you know I won't just make a run for it?"

His eyes seemed to flash in excitement. "Because we both know what will happen to your pretty face if you do."

Shivers went up my spine. I'd forgotten for a second. _Killer_. How could I have forgotten that easily? How could I have let my sass slip that easily? How easily would I make it for him to get sick of me?

He tilted his head down at me. "Five minutes," he repeated, then turned and left, walking briskly down the hall.

And let me tell you this, it took a lot less than five minutes for me to get ready. I was terrified, there was no way I was going to make him wait.

So I was down the stairs in what seemed like seconds and walking out into the night air, wearing a red dress made for a queen and simple makeup and had my hair down in curls. The limo was parked at the entrance of the apartment building, so there was no need to look around for it. Klaus stood next to the back door, hands folded behind him as he waited for me.

But as I got closer, the fear in my stomach died down a bit and was replaced with confidence, all because of Klaus' face. His mouth opened just a tiny bit, and his eyes watched me with every step I took. I walked taller as I got closer to him, stopping beside the open car door. "You look surprised," I repeated his previous words.

He caught onto my repetition and locked his eyes onto mine. "Impressed, more like it. I was not expecting a regal beauty."

The confidence in my head only grew. "You've met me before."

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes, and if we're going off _that _impression, I was awaiting a slut."

And then the fire in my heart was gone. He knew how to bite back. I raised my head a little higher. "Well perhaps you should pick your wives after you know them a little better."

That being said, I turned to get in the car, pleased I'd had the last word, but was stopped when his hand lashed out and gripped my arm. Harshly. I lost my breath for a moment as I looked up to his angered face. "You would do well not to speak to me in such a manner," he growled down into my ear. His tone dripped with unspoken threats.

Yet I fought him. "The second you treat me like a human being, I'll do the same."

He had my back pressed into the side of the car in a flash. "Should I show you why my reputation is what it is?" he demanded. "Because I'll be more than happy to demonstrate and then proceed to find a brand new date for the evening. One with a little more controlled _tongue_."

My heart rate picked up dramatically. I could hear it even over my heavy breathing. My eyes looked back and forth between his, silently begging him not to hurt me. Silently telling him I understood. And hearing his not so silent promise to keep his word.

After what seemed like minutes of holding onto his menacing eyes, his hands released my arms, and he stepped back. "Now, are you going to act as my wife, or not?"

One simple nod was all I could offer.

He stretched his shoulders back, stepping completely away now. "Good. Now, get in."

* * *

**Hope you're all enjoying it. Be sure to tell me what you're thinking. I'll try to keep up with the updates, but I'm a terrible person, so no promises...**

**Love you guys for reading. I'll be back.**


	3. Chapter 3

We walked into the fancy building like a king and queen. Or, more accurately, a king and his humble servant. Even though he had his arm around my waist, I felt like he wasn't really there with me.

People walked around with their dates, mingling and chatting with glasses of champagne in their hands. I bit my bottom lip, not worrying about my lipstick. I couldn't feel more like a sore thumb. Most of the women wore black and had their hair done up in fancy updos. But I stood in my bright red dress with my hair curled and bouncing against my back. Klaus held me closer to him and smirked around at the room as if he had a secret. And he did. _I'm here to kill_.

Just as a waiter walked by and handed me a glass of wine, my date leaned down into my ear, whispering the first words shared between us since we'd gotten in the limo ten minutes previously. "Your mission, Caroline, is to find a man named Dick Rogan," he whispered. It wasn't the words that made me uneasy, or even his husky voice, it was the way I felt his lips graze my ear as he spoke. I understood that it was a secret, but he didn't have to eat my ear as he talked. I could hear him from a little more distance than that.

But I just nodded to his words. "How do I find him?"

"Ask around."

"Wait, you're leaving me?"

He smirked, raising his eyebrows. "Are you implying you feel more comfortable on the arm of a killer?"

"You are my husband, aren't you?"

"Doesn't mean I'm your security, love," he snapped back. I looked up at him, feeling once again like he was holding a magnifying glass over my head. His eyes stared back into mine. I could have sworn he was about to slap me, just because I was talking back. But he took a deep breath and looked away from my face calmly. "I have others to meet with. Once you find him, make note of his face and report back to me with a description of his profile."

"What?" I whispered, more so to myself than to him.

"Just do as you're told. Things will run more smoothly if you don't ask questions." He smiled sourly at me before turning and walking away, leaving me in my bright red dress in the middle of lawyers - people I had nothing in common with.

But, acting had always been a hobby of mine. So I put on a smile and forced my friendly manner upon all the men I could find. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Until I spotted a black-haired, brown-eyed needle standing in the corner by himself. It was the same guy from earlier that day; the one I had run into while stalking my husband's house. That couldn't have been coincidence.

And it turns out that it wasn't. I walked right up to him and started being flirty, getting the information that I needed as fast as possible. "Rogan. Dick Rogan," he introduced with a proud smile.

Too proud. He was introducing himself to someone that would hand him over to the hands of a psycho. And I didn't have the guts to do anything but smile.

Five long minutes passed of speaking to the guy. He was one of those annoying pricks that don't shut up. I was finally able to pull myself away when I saw Klaus watching me. From clear across the room, I could feel his gaze. The intensity of the vibe between us was enough to make my knees wobble.

"Well?" Klaus mused as I stopped in front of him.

"You know what. It's written all over your face."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he smirked at me.

My cheeks burned with hesitancy. "That's him. Blue tie, black hair, brown eyes," I sighed, avoiding Klaus' hard stare.

"Teeth?"

"Teeth?"

"What condition are his teeth in?"

I looked back over to Rogan. "Not in the best shape. Front tooth is chipped, and they could be whiter. Why? Who cares about his teeth?" I asked slowly.

Apparently I'd reached my limit of questions for the evening. "Go to the car," he said quietly, looking around at everyone in the room. "I'll be with you shortly. Speak to no one on your way out."

My eyes grazed every inch of his face, trying to read him. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't mind that. Just smile your way out of the building." Then he turned and walked off.

I followed instructions, excusing myself from the event without being noticed. I didn't enter our car when I got to it, though. The reality of what was going on was slowly crashing down on me. I was to find someone - a certain someone that I had seen looking absolutely horrified earlier that day - and I had turned him over to the target of Klaus Mikaelson.

Had I just killed a man? Indirectly, but surely?

I leaned against the top of the car, forgetting to breathe. What was I doing? I'd gotten all dressed up, all prepared for this official date with the devil, and murdered a man in the process. What had I been expecting? A date where I just bonded with a complete stranger? Oh my God.

What was wrong with me!? In a mere three days I'd gotten married, met my husband, then helped him slaughter.

"Feeling alright?"

I whirled around. Klaus stood there, cocking a single eyebrow at me. "What took you so long?" I demanded.

"I was gone a mere two minutes, love."

My voice vanished with just the thought of what had happened in those 'mere two minutes.' "What did you do?"

Klaus put on a fake smile and moved me towards the car. "That's none of your concern."

"Did you kill him?" I breathed.

I think a 'yes' would have been better than the silence he gave me. At least then I would have known exactly what had happened. But he didn't give me an answer. He didn't even look at me. Just opened my door and sat me down in my seat.

There was absolutely no talking in the car ride home. None. The only thing I remember from that car ride was seeing his rough, left hand tapping a rhythm on his knee - his knee that was so uncomfortably close to mine. But the most uncomfortable thing of all was the gold band around his ring finger. That was my mark. The mark I hadn't even meant to leave. But the same mark was on my own finger. And I felt so incredibly bonded to him in the worst possible way.

My apartment showed up eventually, and Klaus was out of the car and opening my door for me the second the car stopped. I was sluggish. My body refused to work correctly. Yet my mind and tongue were so quick to act.

As he closed the car door, I turned to face him once again. "Just so you know, I'm not helping you again. I'm demanding a divorce."

He smiled. "You're quite brave. Or is it the fear you're running on?"

I licked my lips. I may have seemed brave, but my cheeks were flushing and my hands were sweaty. "Seriously," I forced out. "Don't talk to me again unless it's to sign a divorce paper."

With that said, I felt like I could safely and boldly walk back to my apartment and finally break down once behind a locked door.

He stopped me, though. "I didn't force you to marry me, I hope you know. You were completely willing."

"I was completely drunk and didn't have a clear head on," I responded, not turning around to him.

"The point remains. Stop accusing me of being the devil when you so willingly married me."

I spun around. "Drunkenly married you. Huge difference."

"You see this ring? You placed it there. You were enough in your own head that night that you hand picked a ring out and slid it onto the appropriate finger. All while telling me about the tale of your first dog. 'Bango,' was it?"

"I. Was. Drunk."

"Keep telling yourself that, darling, and maybe one day someone will actually take it as a valid excuse."

Now I was just fishing for something to throw back at him. He was winning, and I couldn't stand it. "I'm never helping you kill a man again."

"So quick to jump to conclusions."

"I'm not helping you!"

"You will do as I command. You're my property now-"

"That is not how marriage works!"

"That is _precisely_ how marriage works, Mrs. Mikaelson, and the sooner you realize that, the easier this road will be for the both of us," he yelled back in my face. "Good night, to you."

And that was it. He turned on his heel and was in the limo, driving away in a matter of seconds. My heart pounded. The worst combination of terror and anger boiled just underneath the surface, threatening to spill out through tears.

* * *

A moment of silence can sometimes save someone's life. Then again, so can maintaining a steady, calm agenda. My life used to be like that, and so quickly had I lost grip of it. One drunk act and I was screwed for eternity. And it wasn't a normal 'screwed' where I'm late for a deadline, or my friends are mad at me, or I even got fired. Oh no. I might as well have kissed my past years goodbye because none of it mattered now.

Because Klaus Mikaelson was my life now. My reason to breathe. My reason to wake up and face the day.

And how I wish - oh, how I wish - I could be saying that in a romantic way. But I say it, instead, with my throat tightening and images of dead bodies flashing before my eyes. Not a good thought to be pondering over while drinking a morning strawberry smoothie.

I have the ability to act, though. So might as well act as if that was the life I wanted.

So I threw out my smoothie and went to put on the newest outfit from Kierce, delivered personally by my boss. Beautiful top with designer jeans. There. I had the newest fashion. That made life better.

And the good mood my clothes put me in lasted all the way through...my apartment. And then I got to the door and-

"Ah, morning, Caroline."

My eyes focused on the man standing right outside my door. His happy face was such a contrast from the bone-chilling creepiness he'd been working the first time we met. "I'm late for work," I informed him sharply, stepping out of my apartment and locking the door as he spoke.

"I won't take much of your time, darling, fear not. My brother asked that I deliver this to you by hand."

I looked down at his outstretched hand and saw an envelope in his fingers. "What is it?"

"A letter, I'm assuming."

"From who?" I snapped.

"My brother," he said slowly, in an aggravated tone.

Licking the inside of my lip, I took the letter from him and ripped it open. Indeed, a note from my royal dick of a husband. _"My Dearest"_ printed on the front again. Scoffing, I turned it over to read the back.

_Caroline,_

_I'm sorry I had to have that strong upper hand last night, but if it's what needs to happen to put us in the right places, so be it. I did enjoy last night, however, despite our last few moments. I cannot tell you how much joy I got when people would ask who my date was and I had the privilege of directing their attention to your beautiful face. You're quite a catch._

_However, setting aside all comments and praises, I won't take no for an answer. Tomorrow night you're to meet with me again. This time we will be cruising a yacht on a lake. Once again, dress formal. A different dress this time, if you will. I do hate being seen in the same attire more than once._

_I await your presence._

_Klaus Mikaelson._

I shook my head in pure hatred and looked back up to the calm brother. "Your sibling is a complete ass, you know that?"

He nodded. "I'm well aware. May I?" he asked, reaching for the note.

I couldn't care less. I tossed him the note and turned to walk away. Halfway down the hallway I went, and then stopped dead in my tracks when I heard him light a match. The hallway glowed red and I spun around to see him burning the card.

"What are you doing!? You're going to set off the fire alarm!" I hissed, marching back over to him.

He wore a smug grin on his face as he watched the flames. "Not to worry, little lady." His eyes flashed up to mine. "I'm quite good with fire..."

Aaaand that was enough creepy for me. I didn't even give him a wave. Just turned and walked as fast as I could out of the building, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. I didn't even know that guy's name yet. He easily could have been weirder than Klaus. But he hid it nicely. Wearing a tux everywhere he went, with his hair always nicely brushed. He really looked like a friendly guy. Honestly, he'd gotten a bit on my good side.

And then he went and showed himself to be a pyromaniac.

Fantastic.

* * *

I hung another pair of skinny jeans onto the rack, missing the fact that I wasn't ordering them properly. My mind was a bit occupied...

_Tomorrow night. No is not an answer. Yacht. Dress formal._

A young woman with a shopping cart walked past me, but I didn't move out of her way like I normally was so quick to.

_Tomorrow night. Another meeting. Another death._

_And you're helping._

I shoved the rest of the unsorted jeans onto the rack. My face was flustered, my palms sweaty, and my head pounding. What was I going to do? There was no way out.

Unless...unless I literally got out.

Yeah. I could leave town. Screw my job. If I lost it, so what? At least I'll be safe from the freak with a reputation of death. If my life had to stop for about a week (or month), I was fine with that.

The speed in which I got off the clock and into my car, driving away, was so fast I hardly remember it at all. So fast that I hadn't even taken time to grab things. It was as if I'd made up my mind, and absolutely nothing was going to change it. I was going to keep myself alive, and that was all there was to it.

* * *

I wasn't so confident eight hours later, though - stuck in a hotel about half an hour out of town with nothing but the clothes I'd had on from that morning and my wallet and car. Shit. But! I was alive. I was safe from Klaus. I got out of town safely and no one followed me.

Or at least...that was what I thought. Until there was a knock at my door, interrupting the laughter of the sitcom on my television. My eyes shifted to the side of the room. It's the maid, I told myself. Of course it is; who else?

Well, in reality, it could have been anyone. And with that thought in mind, I slowly got off the hotel bed and walked for the wooden panel blocking the visitor from me. The atmosphere didn't feel right. It was too... loomy. My head throbbed and my vision spun, so much so that I nearly grabbed the wall for support.

But I made it to the door, and the lack of a peep hole suddenly was a huge default in the hotel room. With clammy fingers, I grabbed the handle and pulled open the door. The second I saw the man standing on the other side dressed in black, I tried to slam the door back shut, but he knew what I was doing, and stopped me as if it had been a rehearsed action. Pressure on pressure, my body weight against his right arm, and he won.

I gasped and stumbled backwards, watching the victor lick the front of his teeth and walk into the room with his hands in his pockets. I caught my breath and glared at him, hating his calm face. His nose was pointed, his hair short and spiked, and his blue eyes stared at me in boredom. He tilted his head. "Now, was that really necessary?"

I backed up, defending myself with steps of confidence. "I'm not going with you."

"Oh, come on," he sighed, "We both know you kinda don't have a choice."

"I could take you on," I declared, fisting my hands. "I know kung foo."

He laughed, looking to the side, which allowed me to look at his perfectly white teeth as he gazed over the room. "Too bad it won't get you very far. I've got like ten more guys around the building," he said, pointing around in the air. "You're coming with me willingly, or not. But you are coming."

My eyes darted to the open door behind him, escape routes scanning through my head faster than I could actually think. But it wasn't fast enough, or maybe not smart enough, because the man didn't even have to turn around to see what I was looking at. "Seriously?" He rolled his eyes, "That's not gonna work, but if you insist, go for it."

What was I doing? Ten more guys were outside; I didn't stand a chance. There was nothing I could do.

Growling and turning from him, I raked a hand through my hair. "There's no way out, is there?"

"I'm afraid not."

"So why aren't you holding a gun to my head? Make things a lot smoother-"

"That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" he frowned, lifting his hands up in defense, like my crazy might actually bounce off onto him.

I scoffed. "You kill people for a living."

"Whoa," he choked, offended. "That's Klaus' job. Take that up with him. Out of all of us, Klaus is the only one that kills people. I just kinda...push 'em around."

"Out of all of you? How many of you freaks are there?"

"More than the minutes of minutes you have to get your ass back to Klaus' boat," he said quickly, "and let me tell you, there aren't very many of us."

"I don't want to go back."

"Yeah, and I don't want to be stuck in this hot uniform all day, but life just doesn't work out to our liking sometimes."

"No, not working out to my liking would be a really amazing dress not fitting, or even frying my hair off," I began, stepping forward, finger pointed at him. "This isn't life not working great, this is maniacs coming into my life and screwing the hell out of it!"

The man inhaled deeply and looked around the room once more. "That really is very fascinating. I know! Why don't you tell me all about it on the way back?"

"No," I said flatly.

His eyes found mine once more. He didn't look angry at me. He looked understanding. And if I hadn't been watching him so closely, I would have missed the tiny nod he made to himself. "Alright. What do you want?" I opened my mouth. "And don't make it something huge. I work for Klaus, I'm not gonna be able to work miracles in your name."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Then what am I supposed to ask for if it can't be anything actually valuable."

"How about information?"

That stopped me. "What kind of information?"

"Well, for starters, my name's Stefan. And you are?"

"You already know."

"Well, duh. Work with me, will you? We can do this in a civil manner."

I licked my lips. "Caroline."

"Great. Lovely to meet you Caroline. Now, if you'll be so kind as to follow me down to my car, we can head back to the party you're to be attending and I'll tell you about what I do for a living in exchange."

That was good enough for me. If I could get some information for just being cooperational, fabulous. Stefan turned to the door and led me out of the building. I returned my key to the lady at the desk, ignoring her frowns of distaste. We got outside, into the empty parking lot, and headed for the only other car besides my own.

"Wait, I thought you said you had a bunch of guys..."

Stefan opened the passenger's door, waiting patiently.

I gaped at him as it all started clicking in place. "You lied to me!"

"You were being difficult," he snapped back. "Now, in."

"How am I supposed to trust you now?"

"Oh, good God," he grumbled, dropping his head back. "Just get in the damn car."

"No!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms. "I don't trust that you'll actually tell me anything. You could be-"

"Fine," he hissed, bringing his head back up to glare at me. "I've worked for Klaus for two years. We've been friends for twenty. My job is to push people, like I said previously. Now, are you ready to hear more, or are you going to continue wasting time and pouting like a mini drama queen?"

* * *

I watched him like a hawk as he shifted gears. My legs and arms were crossed, my seat belt was on tightly, and my temper was literally about to burst.

"Well?" I snapped loudly.

Stefan's eyes widened in exasperation. "We're not even out of the parking lot yet!"

"I don't care. You promised information; start talking."

Licking his lips, he pushed on the gas. "Very well, bossy. Klaus' job is undercover, as I'm sure you know by now."

"It's not that undercover," I corrected. "Everyone knows what he does. I'm pissed off that the cops haven't taken care of him yet."

Stefan lifted his eyebrows, obviously mentally giving me a sassy comment. "Anyway... He hired me to be his people person. I deal with anyone that he can't."

"Whoa... What do you mean anyone he can't deal with? Like, cops?"

"No. People he doesn't have the energy to deal with. Or people he can't keep straight. Or people he can't keep under his thumb..." He gave me a side glance.

"He sent you to deal with me."

"You're not exactly making yourself easy."

"Why weren't you dealing with me before?"

"He hadn't realized how much of a self-independant bitch you were."

My puff of offended breath blended in with the rising volume of the road underneath the wheels. "Yeah, well, maybe he should have thought of that before he married me."

"He has his reasons."

I bit my lip in frustration. "You're all full of too many secrets."

He lifted his hand off the wheel to motion along with his words. "I'm trying to talk to you right now. Be patient and it'll go a lot smoother."

And I went right back to my silent, arms-and-legs-crossed, pissed off position, staring at him in my wait.

Slowly swallowing, he carefully turned a corner and leaned back in his seat. "Now, as I was saying, I'm the people person. I take care of difficulties, as well as all of his clients."

"Clients!?"

"Oh my God, you never shut up-"

"He has _clients_!? What the hell for? Who goes to him? And why?"

"Calm down," he groaned. "They're just people. They go to Klaus to hire him for-"

"Do they hire him to kill people!?"

"Why do I even bother trying to s-"

"That is disgusting!" I cried. My hands were shaking, and the backs of my knees were weak. This had taken a turn for the worse - and I'd thought the limit of Horrible had been reached. "You're sick. All of you!"

Stefan frowned. "Well what's better in your mind: killing for money or killing for sport?"

"Neither are good!"

I fell back in my seat, releasing a bit of the tension as I started to breathe again. The dark road was tilting from side to side as my head rocked.

The man beside me glanced at me, then sighed as he drove right past a stop sign. "Look, there's really nothing you can do about anything. You're stuck in the middle of all of this, and you have no choice at all. Nothing is your fault. You'd be better off just accepting it all and moving on."

I shook my head. "No, I'm in the middle of it, so I _should_ be able to make a difference about it all. I'm part of this now."

He laughed, hard. His smile was tranquilizing. A man in his position shouldn't be able to just let go and laugh like the world were a great place. Yet here he was, showing off his teeth as he giggled to himself. "Yeah, alright, you keep telling yourself that. You'll get a bullet in your head before you can even get him to change what shoes he's wearing."

I knew he was right, though I turned to look out my window instead of telling him so. He had a valid point - I'd been dragged into all of it by force, and I really did have no control over anything. Would it be so wrong to just let things go as they go?

No! No, giving in would be like giving up. No. I would struggle till death. ...Which might be just around the corner.

I let go of my breath in a wine, dropping my head back on the headrest. "Why did he marry me?"

"I don't know," Stefan shrugged. "That was completely a personal plan."

"Then tell me why he kills people."

He bit his lips together. "Can't."

"Why not? I know everything else-"

"You know _nothing_," he snapped, becoming defensive in a split second. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that you have any idea what we do. All it'll get you is trouble. If Klaus wants you to know anything, he'll tell you."

"How much more could there be?"

He smiled. But this time, his smile wasn't pleasant. "You know nothing," he repeated.

His voice sent shivers down my spine. Shivers that spread to my arms. My bare arms. I was still in the jeans and shirt from that morning. I was on my way to a party on a boat, and I was wearing casual clothing.

"I have to change," I said quietly, avoiding looking at the driver.

"No time. You ran, you get to stick out of the crowd."

"Klaus won't be happy."

"You ran, you get to deal with his anger. And speaking of which..."

I looked up and focused my attention on where we were. I had completely focused in on our conversation, missing the lights of the city as we drove through it. Now we pulled up to the beginning of a long dock, where a man stood at the end, dressed in a suit, with his hands folded behind his back, and his shadowed face bringing me nothing but terror.


	4. Chapter 4

**Some of you guys are sweet enough to make me cry. **

* * *

The wind bit me through the thin sleeves of my light blue top. I couldn't help but think that Klaus was controlling the wind at that point. His eyes were sharp and deadly even from the distance I was at, though I was fast approaching him, much to my discomfort.

Sun down, cold air, empty stomach, huge boat. How fantastic.

However, as I got closer to Klaus, he lifted his head up and smirked gently. No, not a menacing smirk. A pleased one. I frowned at him and slowed down when I was close enough for conversation.

"Caroline, dear. So nice of you to join me," he smiled, reaching out to me.

My initial reaction was to snap back with something about how I didn't have a choice, or how there was nothing 'nice' about it, but his gentle touch on my back made my breath stop in my throat. "What are you doing?"

"Showing my wife to the boat."

"You're not mad..."

His genuine smile turned into an annoyed smirk in less than a second. Licking his lips, he leaned down to my ear. "What's the point in having a wife to wave around if I'm obviously disappointed with her?" I turned my head enough to watch his all-too-close chest rise with his breath. "Reality will be dealt with later. Until then, we're happily married," he smiled, tightening his arm around my back in what I assumed was supposed to be some sort of hug. "Understand?"

I swallowed, watching the dock beneath our feet, and nodded. But his gaze on my face burned a hole in my flesh, and I had to look up to his blue eyes. His eyebrows were raised, and his face was serious. His silent threat was replied with a smile of my own, then he finally decided I was ready.

"Now," he chimed, stepping away and towards the small board connecting the dock to the yacht in front of us, "along you go, darling. And try not to slip."

I moved forward, being sure not to touch him on my way past. _Try not to slip.._.

* * *

The boat party ended up being a gathering some man had put together to show off his new "Pearl of San Diego." But, it didn't really matter what the party was about; it mattered what Klaus and I did during the party.

There were sailors aboard with their wives on their arms. Everyone had either toothy grins, or deadly glares. Klaus was possibly the only one with a look on his face that was in between the two extremes, but his was entirely an extreme of its own. Under the stares and whispers of everyone around us, plus a killer wrapping his arm around me, I really didn't have a chance to completely take in the beauty of the boat. There were white Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, and drinks going around, along with some wood-like fragrance floating around in the air, but that was all I could really pull out.

But while I was in my trance of not knowing what to do or think, Klaus took control of the situation, like usual. He walked us up to one of the more sophisticated men on board and greeted him with a warm handshake. "Captain Drake, good evening."

"Ah, Mikaelson. I was wondering when you'd show," the husky man replied. He was nearly five inches taller than Klaus, and much more filled out. He easily could have passed for one of those disgustingly huge body workers. "You're nearly an hour late. What held you up?"

"Work finally caught up with me," Klaus answered without hesitation. "You know how these supposedly under-cover jobs can be," he smiled, looking down at me as if he were just checking how I was. But I caught the accusation in his eye.

The Captain nodded with a deep chuckle. "Very well. Understood. We're just glad you could show."

"Where is Captain Jonathan?" Klaus frowned.

"He went below for a few moments. Not sure when he'll be back up, but he will before the night's over."

With a nod, Klaus smiled and stepped away, pulling me along. He directed us to the side of the boat. No words were spoken, he just released me and went to staring off at the view of the city. I'm sure if it had been a different situation, I also would have paid attention to the sparkling towers and car lights, but I was a bit busy being paranoid.

Klaus leaned his elbows on the railing and looked over his shoulder at me. "What did Stefan have to say to convince you to join me?"

I swallowed and frowned, slowly processing his words. "Um, information."

"Information? About?"

"You..."

Klaus, smirking in amusement, stood to face me. "That's all it takes?"

I looked up at him in confusion. "What? You're just going to freely offer me information about your 'under-cover' job?" I questioned. "That wasn't exactly your approach earlier."

"It still isn't. I'm just entertained by the thought that you're so easily persuaded."

"One of the reasons I'm so against everything is because I don't know what everything _is_," I pointed out with venom in my voice. "You know, if you just told me, I might actually work better with you."

His eyes watched me closely. They burned into my face, tracing every thought that went through my head. He was confused, that was obvious. About what exactly, I wasn't sure. "What exactly is it you're hoping to hear? You know I kill for a living; will hearing the nitty gritty details make it any less horrible?"

"Yes," I said quietly. "Because you just proved my point."

"Which was?"

"You think it's horrible, too."

He chuckled, looking up over my head. "Do you actually think before you speak?" His eyes flashed as he looked out over the water. "I created my job. I put myself in this life. If I thought it was as awful as you seem to think, do you really believe I would still be in it?"

I shrugged. "I guess I was hoping you were being forced to live this life."

"No," he growled. "This is the life I chose. Now would you mind not spitting on it?"

I turned on him, losing my compassionate tone. "I don't have to praise your life. This was the life _you_ chose, not me. I was forced into it. So forgive me if I don't thinks it's the cat's meow."

"You don't deserve to be forgiven. Even for something as simple as an opinion."

"This coming from the next Hitler."

Klaus' hand lashed out faster than I could blink. His fingers wrapped around my arm, and he yanked me towards him, sneering down in hate. His mouth opened to speak, but just as he inhaled, someone came up beside us, smiling sweetly. "Mikaelson."

Klaus took a deep breath, exhaling against my hair. Turning, he placed a calm look on his face and released my arm. The second he saw the woman standing next to him, though, his act was dropped as a true wave of peace flooded over him. "Anita."

"Just Anna, now, actually," the short, dark haired woman smiled smugly, ignoring me completely.

"Oh, of course, the name change." Klaus chuckled and turned completely towards her, abandoning me. As much as I didn't want him hissing in my ear, I didn't want him to completely forget I was there. "What are you doing back here, Anna?"

Anna looked out over the water, fiddling with the glass of champagne in her hands. "Checking in on everything. Making sure it's all still in check." She looked familiar to me in a strange way. Not like I had seen her in the shop before, but like she had done something odd and I wasn't going to forget her face any time soon. Which apparently I had.

Klaus placed his hands in his pockets, his back tightening as he did so. "I wish I could give you a summary of the past couple years, but I didn't pay much attention to your neck of the woods."

"No, I know. But, seeing as you're here, how are you?"

At that question, he finally hesitated. "I don't think we should be conversing in present company."

I thought he meant me, but Anna looked around the boat. She inhaled deeply, obviously disappointed, and nodded. "I suppose you're right..." Tapping the base of her glass with her left hand, she swiftly walked away, seeming to be uncomfortable all of the sudden.

Klaus watched her go. He watched her until she walked out of his view. And even after that, he watched where she had disappeared to. And only after a minute of just _staring_, he suddenly turned back to me and cleared his throat. "I have people I must speak with. You're welcome to join me, or you may remain by yourself." With his hands in his pockets, he turned and started walking away before I even answered.

"Will anything happen to me if I stay here?" I said to him before he got to far.

With an amused glance over his shoulder, he shrugged, and left me completely.

And that smug look on his face was the only thing that gave me confidence to roll my eyes and mutter, "No, thank you." I turned to look back over the water. Now that he wasn't there and I was no longer under his gaze, I saw what he had found so beautiful when we first walked over to that corner. The city lights shimmered in the waves of the water. The stars were visible from the boat, and they only added onto the glittering view displayed before me. The familiar sound of traffic and vibration of electricity almost put me in a trance. And in a way, it did.

I no longer paid mind to the people around me. My only thoughts were of Klaus, and what was in our near future.

_Our future._

The thought echoed in my head over and over until I forced myself to think of something else. Unfortunately, my head wondered off onto the topic of Lexi and Matt. I hadn't talked to them since that previous night. I had a lot of explaining to do...

* * *

The evening was calming down. People had left, and just a few people had shown up. Slow music had started somewhere below deck. Many people were dancing with their dates, which I found sweet. These huge captains with scars and tattoos would shed their pride to dance with their wives in the presence of their fellow crewmen. It was romantic to me.

"Champagne?"

I looked over my shoulder to see my suited date holding two drinks in slim glasses. "No," I snapped back. But the look on his face forced me to roll my eyes and add, "Thank you."

He set down my glass on the railing, expertly, and sipped on his own. He'd been gone possibly ten minutes, but the time had completely passed me without much notice. I was in a thoughtful zone, thinking of so many things at once. Klaus. What was he going to do that evening? Lexi. Was she worried? Klaus. What did he have planned for me? Matt. Was he allowing his imagination to run with all the possibilities of where I was? Klaus. Who the hell was he? Myself. Was I handling all of the chaos correctly? Klaus. ...Was I going to be one of his victims if I kept up the attitude?

"You seem upset."

I inhaled sharply, standing up straight. "No, just seasick," I lied, keeping my eyes away from his general area.

"Ah, I'm sure that's the problem."

"It might be."

"Yes, and I might actually appreciate your sass," he said in a strangely animated voice. "But I don't. And you're not seasick."

I finally looked at him, seeing his relaxed manner as he sipped on his champagne and leaned sideways on the railing. "I'm not going to stop being myself just because you want me to." Such a contrast to what I had been considering in my head.

"I'm not asking you to," he was quick to correct. "All I'm requesting is you not be unpleasant to the people around you. No one likes a woman who thinks she's better than everyone in the room."

"I never said-"

Klaus looked ahead suddenly and smiled. "Ah, Captain Jonathan." I looked to follow his gaze and found a medium, husky, sloppy man standing in front of us, beaming like the Cheshire Cat.

"Klaus Mikaelson!" he bellowed. "Pleasure to see you aboard my ship!"

Klaus reached out to return the offered handshake. "Pleasure to be here. This is quite the beauty you have yourself."

"The same could be said for you." I frowned and quickly noted how his attention had landed and stuck to me. "Who might this smashing woman be?"

Klaus took a step towards me. "My-"

"Caroline Forbes," I smiled sourly.

"Mikaelson," he almost spoke over me, raising a hand to rub my back. I saw a tired look shade his face. "Newly weds; not quite used to the last name, I'm afraid."

The Captain saw nothing of Klaus' odd manner. "Well congratulations to the both of you! You make a fine couple." And having given his two cents, he simply walked away, going to chat with other guests.

Klaus' hand lingered on my back for a moment, but he removed it when I shifted to the side. I half expected him to scold me for being rude once again, but he kept his lips together and watched people on the boat. His eyes were narrowed, like the light was too much for him. He sighed, like the small commotion was too much for him. He kept his attention from me, like I wasn't enough for him.

I licked my lips, taking the champagne he'd left on the railing for me. Klaus inhaled slowly, then opened his mouth. "I must go deal with more issues."

I frowned. "Didn't you just do that?"

"Yes," he sighed. He'd had the same thought in his head. "But now there's music playing..." he murmured as he walked away, straight towards the door that led below deck.

I frowned to myself. This was nothing like the law firm party we'd attended the first time. This didn't make much sense. At least at the law firm, I knew who the bad guy was – my husband. But now my husband looked like he wasn't the only thing to worry about. He had walked with tired legs, but alert hands. He also hadn't assigned me to find anyone in particular. So what was going on?

I had about two minutes to think about the situation I was in before another situation took over. I lifted my hand to take a drink, and it was shot out of my hand from the side. I screamed in surprise.

Captain Jonathan stood to the right with a pistol aimed at my head. I couldn't think, couldn't react. I stood there like a deer in headlights, staring down the barrel of the gun.

A gunshot went off, ringing in my ears. I thought it was Captain Jonathan's gun, but I was unharmed. So what...?

Captain Jonathan fell to the ground, and behind him was Klaus, holding up a gun as his eyes followed the captain's limp body to the ground. I breathed again, not having realized I'd stopped. Klaus walked to me swiftly. His jaw was set. His movements were direct and with a purpose.

I stared at him as he stopped in front of me. "Are you a screamer?"

What? "What?" I wheezed.

His eyebrows lifted matter-of-factly as he took her hand in his. "Because I'm going to need you to stay very quiet."

I nodded, flexing my fingers over his stone hard hand. He took off towards the edge of the boat, pulling me along behind him. "You swim, I presume?"

I hesitated. "Not very well..." My voice came out as a week whisper.

He stopped walking when he could see the water directly under the edge of the ship. I looked too, and the blue-black water just beneath looked cold and unwelcoming. But I didn't really have a choice what happened.

Klaus let go of my wrist and looked back around the ship. Just in time, too, because his eyes caught something and he shot immediately, planting a man to the boarded deck with the pull of a trigger.

He tossed the gun to the side and licked his lips as he turned back to me. "You see the dock by the blue house near the tall light post?" I looked behind me, clinging to his arm for support, then nodded in affirmation. "You need to swim out to them."

I nearly choked on my breath. "I can't swim that far!"

"You can if you know it'll save your life."

I looked back to him, desperation radiating off of me. He looked determined, but I could have sworn some sort of sympathy crossed his eyes. "It's the only way?" I whispered. He might not have heard me over the ruckus behind him, but he was close enough that he did.

Klaus took a step forward, put his hands on my waist, and lifted me up onto the railing of the boat. His eyes burned into mine. "It's the only way."

I nodded, understanding. Movement behind him caught my eye, and I watched as a woman fell over the side of the ship. The cold splash that followed made my bones shiver. "What after I get there?"

"Stay under the dock until I come for you."

"What if something happens to you and you don't come?"

This made him pause, and his pause made my stomach shrivel into a cold ball. He nodded his head to the side, the equivalent of an uncertain answer. Without explaining further, he picked up my feet and turned me around on the railing. And just as the door to bellow the deck blew open and a flurry of men came rushing out, Klaus shoved me off the boat.

My breath caught in my lungs as I tried to scream. The water opened and absorbed me into its chilling depths before I could open my throat.

* * *

I sat on the dock. My feet barely grazed the surface of the water. It hadn't exactly been easy swimming over three quarters of a mile on a whim, but my energy level allowed it. My clothes were ruined, which only added to my horrible night. But the sound of the water mixed with the wind and the lights made the moment a little more enjoyable. That is, if I could get my mind to forget all the cries of horror I had to listen to while swimming to where I was.

It was quiet now. The lights on the ship were off. I watched when they were unplugged (or however they went out), and it was a creepy sight. Like all life on the ship just... ended. It made me worry about Klaus. The only thoughts I had of him were of him saving me life. And if Klaus acted like that Klaus – the protective, everything-under-control, drops-a-man-on-the-first-shot Klaus – then I could easily see myself getting used to it. The adrenaline I felt on the ship was terrifying, but the satisfying feeling after of 'I survived' made me want to float.

And the idea that Klaus didn't survive made me want to sink.

But part of me knew he was alive. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to go down in a spontaneous gun show. So when footsteps approached me on the dock, it was no surprise they belonged to my husband himself. His breath was easily heard over the water.

I turned my head to the side to watch him stop next to me. His pants were damp and filthy, spotted here and there with scarlet red.

"You took a while," I commented.

He inhaled slowly. He seemed to be in a bit of a trance. I watched him take something out of his pocket. "There was more to deal with than I had anticipated."

He spit into the water. Blood. He the tossed some weapon into the water. Gun, I noted before it hit the water.

"You're not gonna want that later?"

"Not my preferred choice of hand gun."

To my surprise, he lowed himself down next to me. I watched him wince a couple times. His shoes were in his hands and then flying into the water before he was even situated on the dock.

I raised my eyebrows. "You're not gonna need those later?"

"Interesting that in your mind I will need the shoes but only want the gun." He smirked.

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you always that keen on people's words?"

"Not usually."

He fell silent, slowing his breathing. His hands were bruised and he looked properly exhausted. I leaned forward on my hands and crossed my legs. "Rough night?" I joked.

Klaus turned his head to me slowly. "One could say that. It wasn't much of a battle, but any battle for me is rough."

"You don't fight a lot?"

"No," he said with a hint of resentment.

I bit my lips together, letting the extra confusion he'd just dealt out go. He leaned back on his arm, seeming to have collected himself again. I rubbed my hands together, breathing through the approaching butterflies in my stomach. If he was collected again, would he realize how relaxed he was being and instantly slip back into his terrifying vibe? I forced myself not to think about it. Just enjoy the moment while it lasts, I told myself.

Klaus turned to look at me again. He seemed to be torn between watching the water and my. But I must have done something particularly interesting, because this time he didn't look away. His intense gaze sent shivers down my arms, and I felt goosebumps wave over my entire body. He frowned ever so slightly and reached his free hand out to touch my arm. His fingertips hovered. "You're cold."

"No," I corrected, "I'm nervous."

His blue eyes snapped back up to mine. "Most girls would say the opposite."

"You know you intimidate me," I reminded. "What's the point in lying?"

He didn't even have to think. "To prove that you have power just as I do."

I chuckled. "Not to sound proud of myself, but I don't think you need me to prove that I have power."

He raised his eyebrows, looking back to the water now. "Nor do you need to back up your ego."

"My ego really isn't that high. I'm just somewhat confident right now, so I'm going to use it as long as it lasts."

"Good."

I snapped my eyes to him, allowing my confusion to show. But he didn't explain. He took a deep breath, looking around as if he were making sure there was nothing he had to grab before the left. "I've had enough of water for the day. You?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He stood up quickly, again wincing as he moved too suddenly. He offered me a hand, and I took it. "Where are we going?" I asked, picking up my shoes.

Klaus walked barefoot down the dock, heading for the blue house he had pointed out back on the ship. "To my safe house."


End file.
